


End of the Line

by MeiJelly



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captain America - Freeform, M/M, PTSD, anxiety/panic attacks, winter soldier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 06:09:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8878921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeiJelly/pseuds/MeiJelly
Summary: When Steve Rodgers and Bucky Barnes finally settle into a normal life of bliss and calm, everything seems to fall into place. They have an apartment together, share a bed, have breakfast, lunch and dinner, and begin to have serenity. But of course, serenity and peace never last. When Steve is called away on a mission after a long quiet things go amiss, and he is taken captive. Will Bucky find the strength to once agin become the Winter Soldier? If he does, what will have happened to Steve? Will he be able to rescue him? Will Bucky be revealed once more to watchful eyes? Can their simple and pleasant life ever be a reality again?They've always told each other that they'll be together till the end of the line. Will this be the end of the line?





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter Updates may be delayed.   
Will be continued.


	2. Pancakes, Dishes, and Goodnight Kisses

Bucky woke to the smell of golden bliss. Pancakes. Steve was making breakfast. 

A smile came to his lips, even as he groggily buried his face into the pillows of their shared bed. Steve's pillow smelled just as good, if not better. 

He slowly peeled himself up from the bed, grabbing a sweater and pulling it on over his head. It was fall now, and morning were chilly. His flannel pajama pants and loosely hanging sweater were enough, but what he really wanted to keep him warm was in the kitchen making breakfast. 

The brunet wandered into the kitchen and smiled still, though it was small. He wrapped his arms around Steve, who grinned widely and held him close, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Good morning, Buck." He said cheerfully, flipping another pancake onto the plate which already held a stack of others. 

"Morning," Bucky mumbled in reply, burying his face into Steve's neck. "When did you get up?" 

"Around quarter to five," Steve admitted, reaching one arm back around to continue with the pancakes, but he kept his other firmly around Bucky. 

"That early? Steve, you should be getting more sleep than that." He scolded half-heartedly. 

"You know for a fact I don't need as much as you, and that I physically cannot sleep much more than that. We've had this conversation." 

Yes, they had on many occasions had this conversation. In fact, most mornings they did, but it was their own way.

They'd been together in this apartment without disruption of missions for nearly five months now. They'd grown used to it. 

Steve made breakfast most mornings and dinner in the evenings, they got take-out other nights, and lunches they ate together at home with what was usually leftovers. Neither minded much. It suited them. 

Bucky got restless on occasion and they would go out for walks, though they weren't exactly leisurely. They had to keep a low profile, and they did. There were too many watchful eyes searching for the Winter Soldier. 

Bucky was pulled from his thoughts as the small timer went off behind himself and Steve. Eggs and bacon were done. Steve made a full on breakfast this morning. 

He pulled away after a moment and grabbed his own plate and fork, then going to the fridge and picking out some milk to go with his breakfast.

"What do you want this morning?" Bucky asked, grabbing another glass. 

Steve paused for a moment in thought, "I'll go for orange juice today. Do you want coffee too? I can make a fresh pot."

Bucky poured his milk and Steve's orange juice, then nodded, "That'd be nice."

"Alright, then go ahead and take a seat, I'll bring the food to the table when it's all done." Steve instructed. 

This is how it went most days. 

Bucky had been washing the dishes from dinner that night. The water running over his hands felt so soothing, his mind started to wander. 

His mind brought to him the memory of one day so very long ago, in Brooklyn, sitting at a park bench. Steve was there, of course he was, talking about something Bucky vaguely remembered. 

He was talking about how he might one day wish to have children. 

This was before they had realized and come to terms with their feelings for each other, but that did not lessen the fact that Steve had once wanted it. 

He wasn't sure if Steve wanted kids now... No--he couldn't think like that. They were different people then. They were soldiers and servicemen now, and they were in a far too dangerous place to even entertain such thoughts. 

Just when he'd thought he'd resolved this thought in his mind, it gave him a horrible but wonderful image. 

A child that had Bucky's dark hair, Steve's beautiful blue eyes, and a bright smile that lit up their face. It was a little girl... But so obviously theirs. She looked like she had the best of both of themselves. 

His fingers, slippery with soap and mind far afield, let go of the plate he had been holding and it clattered to the floor, shattering at his feet. 

He was forced from this daydream and he trembled slightly, looking to the ground to see his mess of porcelain. 

Steve was in the kitchen in an instant, eyes scanning for a threat, obviously ready for a fight... Until they met Bucky. His careful watch noticed the slight tremble in Bucky's muscles and he stepped forward. "Buck? What's wrong?" 

Bucky had only vaguely noticed Steve, and he had to force himself to come back to Earth. He looked at Steve now, shaking his head. "Nothing. It's nothing..." 

Steve didn't believe him for a moment, but seeing as Bucky was barefoot and would have a difficult time escaping the minefield of broken glass, he sighed and nodded. "Don't move, I'll go get a broom."

Bucky obeyed, though not because he wanted to listen to Steve alone, but due to the fact that he couldn't will his muscles to move anyway... He groaned softly when Steve was out of earshot. Why did his mind still torment him like this? 

Steve returned a few moments later with a broom and dustpan. Soon enough the mess was cleared and Bucky extricated himself from the kitchen to shower away any remaining bits of glass that may have lingered. 

When both Steve and Bucky returned to bed, the lights dimmed and finally went out. Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky gently, pulling him to his chest. He could tell he wasn't himself. Ever since the broken dishes he'd been... off. 

Bucky buried himself into Steve and his fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt now. He liked Steve's comfort, but at the same time, he didn't quite know how to fix his own mind. 

Steve pulled Bucky's chin up and kissed him gently at first, then a little deeper. When Bucky was lost in his own mind, Steve could always bring him back like this. 

After their lips parted, Steve kissed his forehead. "Goodnight, Buck."

Bucky managed a small smile for Steve, feeling a bit better now, "Goodnight." He murmured, allowing his eyes to fall shut.


End file.
